Slice of Pink

Increase Productivity: January

One of my 2011 Resolutions was to increase my productivity. I even have a plan of sorts. Will bought me a Moleskine weekly planner and each day I am writing down just five small goals--things like send a thank you note, make a dental appointment, pick up a birthday gift--and I am checking off the tasks by the end of the day. I also make a larger weekly goal that I jot down at the top of the page and cross off by Sunday.

Here's a recap of my weekly goals for January:

Week 1 and 2: Get my Address Book in Order
This took TWO weeks. I had over 600 addresses in the address book on my Mac, literally every person I had collected an address or telephone number from since 1999. For instance, that guy I met in the quad at UCSB, exchanged numbers with, and never spoke to again. And a girl in my Islamic Architecture class that I studied with one time, in 2002. And some guy named Fred. I dutifully deleted anyone I was never going to contact again. Then, with the remaining folks, I updated their addresses to the very best of my ability.

Week 3: Clean Out Email Boxes
I'm not too bad at email, but each of my two email boxes had accumulated about 80 messages. I know some people operate with thousands of messages, but I get anxiety when the items occupy more than a single page; so, I set out to empty the boxes. Each day I reduced the box by 50 percent. On Monday, I deleted or archived 40 messages per account. On Tuesday, I cut that in half for a total of 20 per box and, on Wednesday, reduced that number to 10. And so on. It got harder as the week progressed because I started with emails that required only a quick and easy response or a simple click of the "Delete" button. By Friday, I was dealing with just 2 emails, but ones that required some lengthier action on my part.

Week 4: Work on 31 Before 31
I am massively behind on my 31 Before 31 list and I will likely extend the deadline for myself, but I was able to make some progress. I continued my geography studies, visited the Getty Villa, completed some Martha tasks, and did some running. More on all of this to come!

Hooray for Productivity!

We've now entered my birthday week and I have a fun task for the week, one more about giving and less about productivity, which I will tell you about in a few days!

Piling Up the Presents

Wow. Here's an observation for you: Christmas shopping is hard when you have a full time job.

For the previous three years, I was a student. Which was really a great excuse for not shopping. Nobody expects perfect presents from somebody who has finals right up until Christmas Eve Eve. I just basically bought a lot of bottles of wine at the grocery store and made one huge trip to Target.

Before that I was a teacher. You know, we got, like, a week off just for shopping and other assorted holiday chores. And, in the weeks before the holiday vacation started, you'd just give the kids a test and settle in at your desk for some internet shopping.

Before that, I was a personal assistant and it was my job to shop. Everywhere I went, I'd ring up two separate bills--one for presents my boss was giving, one for presents I was giving. This was the precise reason her friends and my friends all got identical slippers from Victoria's Secret.

Now? Ha! I have to get people out of some legal problems, which can't be done down at the Pottery Barn unfortunately.

Don't even get me started on the wrapping. I am now understanding the reason people pay other people to do these things. As the lovely Femme Curieuse would reason, Why Bark?

How do you guys do it, this full time working business and Christmas shopping?

Duty Calls

Last night, the lovely Appetite for Conversation called me on the telephone, asking if I would be interested in accompanying her to San Francisco so that she could pick up a bridesmaid dress. I quickly surveyed the mess I had created in the office while cleaning out my craft cabinet and the pile of clothes that I was intending to put away, per my mother's instructions, and then said, "yes! I would love to accompany you to San Francisco to pick up a bridesmaid dress!"

And she's so kind that she asked tentatively, "are you sure? I know you have a lot to do."

To which I said, "are you kidding? I couldn't let you drive to San Francisco to pick up a bridesmaid's dress all alone. It's my DUTY to go with you."

And, so, today we took a drive and picked up a bridesmaid dress. And then we stopped in for lunch and sweets at La Boulange. And then we shopped around Hayes Valley before heading back home.

Eating and shopping are so much better than packing. Anybody else need a friend to come along for a dress pick-up? Or margaritas and gossip, maybe? When duty calls, packing can wait. I understand my priorities, people.

Exclamation Point

I've been sending a number of professional emails lately for various reasons and I have been desperately trying to curb my propensity to end every single sentence in an exclamation point. I guess I want to make sure that my enthusiasm shines through, that the reader is aware of my energy for life, but, you know, exclamation points aren't always appropriate.

While writing an email last night, I mentioned to Will that I was editing my punctuation from the invigorating exclamation point to the ordinary little period. I expressed a little unhappiness at having to suspend my use of the exclamation point in order to be professional. Will responded, "how about this? For every exclamation point you get rid of in an email, you can use that exclamation point on your blog?"

Isn't that a great idea, y'all!?!?!? Slice of Pink!!! About to get a little more exclamatory!!! Hurrah!!! Three exclamation points per sentence, because they are all suppressed and unvented!!!

Craigslisting

Will has been selling things on Craigslist in an effort to reduce our belongings before we move (more on this later!). I had been only remotely interested in the whole process, allowing Will to take care of all the transacting, which often involved driving to some weird location like the parking lot of Taco Bell to trade cash for our old stuff.

Yesterday, though, the buyers lived just down the street and the item being sold was a nearly-new item of mine, so I decided to tag along. There's an interesting social experiment wrapped up in the whole Craigslist experience and I fully expected some bizarre exchange to take place. I'll admit I was slightly apprehensive about giving my stuff (which is cool, I have cool stuff) to a stranger and I was fully prepared to back out of the deal if I didn't feel like my stuff was going to a good home.

Not to worry, the people who showed up were fabulous--a cute little family of four with accents. My actual "customer" was a girl, maybe eight, who was wearing a black and white striped top with a hot pink tutu. Hello adorable! Are you kidding? I love giving my things to tutu-wearing eight-year old! What else can I list?

Cleaning Up My Crumbs

I know I've professed my love for Apple before, sang their praises, and declared Mac my religion. It's no secret that I'm a devotee.

And I know that, by posting this, I'm either preaching to the choir (hello fellow Mac-lovahs!) or about to be pish-poshed by PC-users who cannot understand why anyone could ever possibly want to make out with a computer behind the bleachers. But, here goes a story about a MacBook user who lost a cupcake in her trackpad and then got a free battery. Or something like that.

So here's what you need to know about Apple: when something breaks, you get to talk to a real-live person. And not just some dude at a 1-800 number who has no clue what you are talking about, but an Apple Genius. You can make yourself an appointment and walk right into the Apple store and the Genius will listen to your whole tragic story and ask lots of questions and then they fix the problem.

A few months ago, my Apple started acting kinda funny, doing this bizarre ghostwriting thing, so I went on down to the Apple store and, as it turned out, there was a lot of "debris" in the keyboard. I know exactly what this "debris" consisted of--cupcake crumbs and scone crumbs and brownie crumbs and maybe the occasional bit of pancake syrup or droplet of Coca-Cola--and I'd venture that the Geniuses at Apple could tell what was going on, too. But did they blame me for the cream cheese frosting that was sticking the Shift key down? No. No, they did not.

Instead, they just went ahead and replaced the top case for free.

(Note: I was under warranty, which they totally hooked me up with despite my failure to sign up for it promptly as required.)

Fast forward three months: I take a trip to the Apple store on Sunday to talk to a Genius about the Bar Exam. You see, I was kinda worried about the whole cupcake in my keyboard situation and, in my state of complete computer-hypochondria, I was absolutely certain that an entire chocolate-chip scone had somehow slipped into the keyboard, one crumb at a time, and I was going to, thus, fail the Bar Exam.

(The Bar Exam makes you crazy. Yes.)

Anyway, the Genius looked at the computer and the prognosis was good--no scones under the Caps Lock key, no Junior Mints hidden under the trackpad.

BUT THEN. He said, "you know what? Why don't we just go ahead and replace the top case and you won't have to worry? Come back in 45 minutes and you'll be set."

AND THEN, when I came back in 45 minutes later (with a new Ann Taylor necklace and Forever 21 leggings), not only had they replaced the top case, they also went ahead and replaced the battery so that I would be super set for the Bar. For Free. Freeeeeeeee.

WHAT COMPANY DOES THAT?

This is not to say that nothing bad could possibly happen, but I think it's pretty great that the folks at Apple are nice enough to clean up my cupcake mess (or feed me a placebo, anyway) and then toss in a battery for good measure.

I Heart Apple.

Sparkling Lemon

I am currently in l-o-v-e with this C.O. Bigelow Lemon Eau de Parfum, available at Bath & Body Works.

It's refreshing, light, and lovely and it reminds of summer, even on rainy days like today.

Happy Easter

It's a perfect day to check out the amazing work of Sharon Montrose {and this fabulous video, too}.

I'm spending today driving 400 miles, from Ventura to Davis. Hopefully the bunny didn't forget about me and a basket of chocolates awaits me back home!

Le Poisson d'Avril

The French, it seems, celebrate April 1st by pinning paper fish on an unsuspecting someone's back! The bakeries and chocolatiers participate in the fun with fish-shaped treats.

I'm not very good at pulling hoaxes on people, but I definitely love some fish-shaped French pastry and chocolates.

Happy Poisson d'Avril!

PSA: Put On Your Something Green

{or else!}

Happy 29, Again

Growing up, there was a magnet on my grandparents' fridge that read something like this: "in a world full of fad food diets, you're my jelly doughnut!"

My Grampa loved raspberry-filled jelly doughnuts. Loved them so much, in fact, that when the Los Angeles Times did a write-up about his 1991 memorial service, the reporter focused on two things: 1) the fact that on every birthday he turned 29 and 2) how much he loved those jelly doughnuts (one student recounted how "he would giggle as he licked raspberry filling from the corners of his lips.")

My family has designated March 9, Grampa's birthday, as Jelly Doughnut Day. You don't have to have known Grampa to celebrate being young at heart and to honor a love-of-life legacy. Go have a jelly doughnut.

Now on Facebook!

Slice of Pink has gone all fancy with a Facebook page! It's kinda awkward because you have to become a "fan" of Slice of Pink, but what you are really doing is becoming a friend (I mean, we're fancy now, but not pretentious).

Resolutions

For most of my life, I made grand, sweeping New Year's resolutions: be a better person, get in shape, enjoy life, be supremely organized. These resolutions always failed or, more likely, were simply forgotten about by the end of January.

2009 marked the first year that I made and kept a resolution for the entire year. The resolution was incredibly simple, specific, and measurable: to wash my face every night before I went to bed. No matter how sleepy, no matter how late, no matter how drunk, I would not, under any circumstances, go to sleep with makeup on (even though my makeup claims to be "so pure you can sleep in it").

It's not all that remarkable of a resolution. In fact, I hardly notice any difference in the quality of my skin before 2009 and after 2009, so I can't even say that the resolution changed my life in any grand way. But, it's a pretty awesome feeling to have completely fulfilled the promise I made to myself, to have kept a resolution for 365 days.

This year? No Internet after 8 pm. Specific and measurable, yes, but obtainable? Eek! We'll see!

Two Thousand Nine

January

I was quoted in the AV Press, we smashed up our car, I was interviewed by the lovely Hope, and I taught y'all how to bike in a dress.

February

We were bailed out of our ridiculous tab at the Rouge Brewery. I turned 29, attended the My Bloggy Valentine Meetup in San Francisco, saw Lance Armstrong and, perhaps more excitingly, stood next to Christian Vande Velde. I attended the law school auction and went on a very girly getaway to San Diego.

March

My girlfriends and I partied with Nintendo in a hip San Francisco loft and I received a big box of marzipan cookies via emergency same-day courier. I met some Playboy Bunnies, got mad at the Bunnies, started a 30 Before 30 list, and went on another girly getaway to San Diego. I fought crime on a police ride along.

April

I made decisions about Twittering, colleges, high school club advising, concerts, gym-going, wedding hair. I milked a cow, attended the Doxie Derby, danced at the Battle of the Bands, and drank a ton of beer on Picnic Day. Some friends and I visited the De Young Museum in San Francisco. I met the Easter Bunny and attended the Oakland A's home opener. I gave you some legal advice.

May

I won a bet (and am pretty sure my husband still owes me the $100). In a moment of great irony, I did not bike to work on Bike to Work Day. I hula hooped with my community, ate a lot of Fage yogurt, and met Gavin Newsom (swoooon) at the Farmer's Market (and only slightly made a fool of myself).

June

I was interviewed by the gorgeous Love is Blonde. Will and I went to see a science comedian (nerd alert!), ate a ton of olives, and biked to a "biker" bar. I took photos of an adorable engaged couple. I drank some champagne (and some more champagne) at Zanon and Lisa's wedding.

July

Many of you ask why I'm vegetarian, so I answered (and then I answered some more of your questions about eating green). I celebrated the 4th of July in Davis. I whipped up a raspberry peach crisp using fruits I picked by hand and dragged seven family members out to the tennis courts to make sparkler art, which was awesome until the cops shut us down. I attended the Renegade Art Fair in San Francisco, built a fort in the living room, and bounced at Sky High. Our friends came to visit and Jenny and I drank wine while our husbands shopped for and cooked dinners for us (ah, the good life).

August

Will and I celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary. We traveled to the Yucatan Peninsula, visiting Merida, Chichen Itza, and Cancun. Our luggage was lost. We took our annual trip to the Cheshire Cat in Santa Barbara. I drank Black and Tans in an Irish pub, forgot to go to jury service, and tasted local ice creams at the Eat Real Festival in Oakland. We witnessed Lauren and Monty tie the knot and I visited Santa Barbara to attend Stacey and Todd's wedding.

September

For the month of September, with a few exceptions, we ate only foods grown and produced within 100 miles of our home. We traveled to Las Vegas to celebrate my sister-in-law's 21st birthday. Will turned 34. I asked y'all to fill out the Proust Questionnaire.

October

I answered the Proust Questionnaire and you did, too! I asked the Typepad Question of the Day. I actually baked for a potluck, rather than picking up something on the way. I visited Washington, DC and celebrated Halloween at the San Francisco Opera.

November

I attended Viv & Ingrid's 10th Anniversary celebration at Miette. I made beer and cheese soup, bought a ticket for BlogHer 2010 in NYC (are you going?), and met up with some girlfriends in Chicago (also: Michael Vick).

December

Oh, yes, I had some law school finals at some point, but even that didn't stop me from putting up the Christmas tree, hosting an eggnog party, and making reindeer food. I visited with family and friends at Brent's Deli, The Palace Grill, Sambos, Schooner's, and Panera Bread (and now I need to go for a run).

Good times, great year. Hello 2010!

Love Birds

My Christmas tree is up, probably at the expense of an A in Trademark. These two sweet little love birds, though? Totally make it WORTH IT.

Change You Can Believe In

Ten minutes before I had to leave this morning, I dutifully counted out $3 in change for the commuter bus, putting the exact amount in my Eloise coin purse. I finished getting ready.

One minute after I was supposed to have already left to catch the bus, I could not find the coin purse with my bus money anywhere.

Cue dramatics.

WHERE IS MY ELOISE COIN PURSE?

WILL! HAVE YOU SEEN MY ELOISE COIN PURSE?!?

OMG! I AM GOING TO MISS THE BUS!

THE BUS! I CAN HEAR IT! I NEED $3!

I quickly grabbed the jar we keep coins in, poured a hefty amount into a baggie, and ran out the door.

I made it to the bus on time and, wouldn't you know it, it is a Spare the Air Day today, meaning that bus rides are FREE to encourage people to take public transportation.

I am now carrying $12.65 in nickels and dimes plus my Eloise coin purse, which I discovered, of course, in my purse.

Anybody need to feed a meter? Need money for a candy bar from the vending machine?

Clippings

Will is on the front page of today's California Aggie newspaper, illustrating an article entitled Yard waste still an obstacle to Davis cyclists. I honestly don't think Will gives a hoot about whether tree trimmings cross the line on double-striped bike lanes--in fact, I've seen him just ride right on through those piles in the past--but there he is, right alongside Obama and Sotomayor. Fifteen minutes of fame and he is looking, well, a little confused about why his picture is being snapped.

Qualifying Cool

Last night, Will and I went to see a stand-up science comedian. As in: there was a dude on stage with a stand-up routine based primarily on physics, chemistry, and biology. I probably do not need to point out what a total and complete geek-fest the event was; the audience was primarily composed of scientists and science students and, wow, were they ever laughing their nerdy heads off for two hours straight.

I'm actually happy to report that I only got half the punch lines. I'm still a little bit cool. Right?

Hoop Happening

I got my hooping on down at Central Park at a hula hooping party, complete with a DJ and dozens of brightly colored hula hoops.

A pretty fabulous way to spend a Saturday afternoon!

Bunny Hopping

Y'all, I met some Playboy Bunnies.

When I booked a room at the Fantasy Springs Resort Hotel and Casino for Lauren, Monty, Will and I, I didn't know that a Bunny Meet and Greet would be taking place in the hotel casino. We were going for Will and Monty's triathlon in La Quinta, which is, you know, fun and all, but when Lauren emailed to say that we were ALSO gonna meet Bunnies I JUST KNEW that the eight hour car trip was going to be so worth it.

However, I almost didn't meet the Playboy Bunnies at all. Let me tell you about that.

First, I almost didn't meet the Playboy Bunnies because of Will and Monty. Despite the fact that there were Playboy Bunnies in the casino, Will and Monty were mainly concerned with eating massive amounts of pasta so they would be carb loaded for the race. We drove all over Palm Springs area to find an Olive Garden, which was (a) breaking my cardinal travel rule, no chain restaurants on vacation, and (b) making us super late for the Playboy Party.

(So, yo! I just want to reiterate that the boys were more interested in cheap ravioli than Playboy centerfolds. I seriously do not know what that was all about.)

Second, I almost didn't meet the Playboy Bunnies because by the time we returned from Olive Garden, the Bunny line was closed and the hotel had some bouncer turning people away. And, he so did not care that I just drove eight hours. So, I did what any good blogger would do and I started sweet-talking my way into the party. I bypassed the hotel bouncer, who clearly had no authority, and made friends instead with the more influential-looking guy wearing a Playboy Bunny lapel pin.

Mark!

Mark is my Homeboy.

I explained to Mark that I needed to meet a Bunny because, hello! I am a blogger! I need to blog about this experience! With photos! Mark didn't even know what a blogger was, so he wasn't at all that impressed with that routine. I quickly changed my angle and fortuitously discovered that Mark used to be a triathlete. Hey! My husband is a triathlete! And Mark rode a Felt racing bicycle. Which, OMG! So does my husband!

Lo! I was under the velvet ropes in no time!

I waited patiently behind two cowboys who had brought their own copies of Playboy for the Bunnies to autograph.

Everybody else had to choose between meeting one Bunny or the other, but since I was the last person in line I pushed my luck and visited both. Mark didn't seem to care because he was over talking to Will about riding bicycles and nobody else seemed to be monitoring the situation now that all the creepy guys with mullets were gone. So, I met Ms. February and Ms. March, who each signed a copy of their respective centerfolds with "hugs and kisses" and XOXOs.

Will may have been initially more interested in unlimited salad and breadsticks, but he wasn't completely unimpressed with the Bunnies.

Maybe I should frame my centerfolds and hang them alongside my Bill Clinton autograph. I think he'd approve.

Happy Pi Day

I don't care how geeky it is, Pi Day is one of my favorite holidays.

Five Things I Currently Just Don't Get, But Would be Willing to Consider if Someone Provided a Compelling Argument

1. Bling H20

2. Strawberry marshmallows

3. America's Next Top Model

4. Fixed-gear bicycles (why would one purposefully get rid of the ability to coast?)

5. Hiking

Be Mine

Have a lovely Valentine's Day!

{Lots of e-valentines at Kate Spade}

La Vie en Rose

I'm continuing to celebrate my 29th birthday a whole week later. Last night my girlfriends took me to dinner at Cafe Bernardo for black bean soup, butternut squash pizza, wine, and chocolate cake.

It was drizzling when we left the restaurant, but I made us stand out in the rain and take a group photo. It was too cold and wet to stand around, waiting to get the perfect shot, so I just balanced the camera on a railing, set the timer, and promised to Photoshop in rosy cheeks later.

Honestly, my friends are all so gorgeous that they don't need any Photoshopping. Still, rosy cheeks are fun, don't you think?

Valentine Meetup

On Friday night, Will and I traveled to San Francisco for a My Bloggy Valentine Party at 330 Ritch.

I was honestly a bit surprised that Will so eagerly agreed up to accompany me to a party that promised to be filled with lots of ladies talking blog. Maybe it was the promise of free drinks and food. Maybe he realized what a fantastic time he missed out on by declining the cocktail party package at the summer BlogHer conference in San Francisco.

Or, maybe it was the fact that the party was hosted by Nintendo and we would get to play DS games during the party. I suspect that might have sealed the deal.

I kinda monopolized the game stations, especially the Professor Layton station (those puzzles are tricky! Can I blame it on the champagne?), but Will was able to play a good few rounds of Mario Kart while I chatted with friends.

Birthday Girl

I've decided I need to celebrate 29 with a weekend Kir Royale and a slice of madeira cake at Crown & Crumpet.

I'm absolutely overwhelmed by the birthday greeting emails, comments, twitters, Facebook messages, text messages, presents, and phone calls. I am incredibly lucky to have so many lovely friends.

Thank you, thank you for sending so much love. It's filling up my whole heart.

Feeling Fine

I arrived to class this morning to find a lovely bouquet of flowers and TWO fancy mousse desserts at my desk, surprises from my wonderful friends. I'm eating sweets for breakfast and birthday blogging. Evidence has never been quite so delightful.

Goin' Rogue

It's always fun to get something for free. It's especially so when the something free comes completely unexpected.

Yesterday we travelled to San Francisco for the Superbowl. We met up with Anthony and Amanda at Rogue Ales Public House in North Beach.

I'm not exactly what you would call a football fan. I didn't even know who was playing in the Superbowl until 3 o'clock and, even then, I referred to the teams as the "red team" and the "yellow team" all afternoon.

(I am, however, a big Superbowl commercial fan. I loved, loved, loved the Pepsi Refresh Anthem with Bob Dylan and Will.i.am.)

So, we sat in Rogue for four hours, ordering appetizers and garden burgers and lots of Rogue ale. We had nachos, artichoke dip, Irish fries, and bowls of Beer Cheese soup. I don't even want to think about the number of calories we consumed. Even when we were completely stuffed in the last quarter, we ordered just one more big plate of fries. And polished the whole thing off.

We had a fabulous time--Amanda and I chatted while Will and Anthony watched the game. Will spent a good portion of the second half of the game out of his seat, either cheering a good play or cursing a referee's bad call (both with much enthusiasm and dramatic arm gesturing).

At the end of the evening, when the Steelers had won the 43rd Superbowl and we were sufficiently stuffed and tipsy, the Rogue staff informed us that we had been selected as their Economic Bailout Party. Apparently, Rogue is running a promotion--one that we knew nothing about--where one party each night is selected to be "bailed out." Rogue bailed us out of our bill! Everything we had ordered, from the piles of fries to the pints of beer, were on the house.

They snapped our photo and sent us on our way, our wallets (and our bellies!) a tiny bit fatter than anticipated.

Tuesday's Bike Ride

{Number 15 on the list of Ways to Know You Have Bicycle Culture: Your entire wardrobe can be classified as ”cycle wear”. Especially those stilettos from Christian Louboutin or your new double-breasted trenchcoast from Tiger of Sweden.}

Today I biked in Bitten jeans, an Old Navy coat, Banana Republic sweater, and Poof! ruffled tank top.

Shannon asked what kind of bike I ride, imagining a really cute cruiser. I do have a cute pink cruiser, which I adore. My cousin, Katie, got it for me and I brought it to Davis all the way from sunny San Diego. It is fabulous for lovely weekend rides.

On a daily basis, however, I use a Jamis commuter bike, which has gears and definitely gets me around quicker.

One bike for style, one for swiftness.

Currently

Loving: The lovely, lovely weather
Consuming: Williams-Sonoma Hot Chocolate
Craving: Peppermint
Hoping: For a stress-free semester. Ha.
Netflixing: Entourage
Listening to: Excellence in Jazz on Capitol Public Radio
Reading: Evidence Law
Wanting: A Shutter Sisters Flashbulb Necklace
Looking Forward to: This weekend's wine and cheese party

Friday Night Bike Ride

I have a long, cold bike ride ahead of me this evening.

Sure, I ride my bike on a daily basis--to school, to the grocery store, to the coffee shop--so I'm not really complaining. Even when it is cold, drizzling, or thick with fog outside, bicycling is my main mode of transportation. The reasons are fourfold: I hate to drive, biking is my main form of exercise, it costs a boatload of money to park on campus, and I like it.

But sometimes, I prefer to drive. If I am going someplace more than, say, five miles away or if it is pouring rain, the car is definitely the way to go. Tonight would be the perfect night to drive: Will and I are going to a little art auction on the other side of town. It's dark, cold, and I'm wearing a dress.

But, alas, our car is the shop after we (read: Will) wrecked it on the freeway. I'll tell you all about that fun tomorrow. For tonight, I'm checking in to complain (just a little bit) about riding all the way across town, in a dress, in the cold, on my bicycle.

I'm totally sucking it up, but there better be wine at the end of this bicycle ride, is all I'm saying

Con Law and Christmas Cards

Oh dear. Finals are on the horizon and I'm wondering if it is possible to learn 16 weeks of Constitutional Law in, oh, about 10 days. Plus, you know, several other classes of information and also getting eight hours of sleep per night (required) and finding 30 seconds to eat a Pop-tart from a vending machine.

Although I will effectively fall off the planet for the next two weeks, I do have an administrative tasks to take care of before I go: holiday cards.

Maybe I'll send holiday cards. Maybe after my last final, I'll just drink two bottles of wine and crawl into bed to sleep for three days straight. There's really no way to predict.

But, should I feel inspired (and by inspired, I mean putting in an order to Costco and printing some labels), I'll be sending some cards around, say, December 23.

So, if you regularly get a card from me, but you've gone and moved or changed your name, legally or not, please send your updated info to my email.

Also, if you don't get a holiday card from me, but would really like to find a holiday photo in your mailbox three or four days after the holidays have already passed, let me know that, too. I'm at sliceofpink at gmail dot com.

Feel free to email outlines on First Amendment Rights and Equal Protection, too. Please.

What I Don't Do

Some time ago, I read a post by Seth Godin that stuck with me. It's about the way people fall into a trap of trying to stand for something while also trying to please everyone or do everything.

You can't be the low-price, high-value, wide-selection, convenient, green, all-in-one corner market. Sorry.

You can't be the work-smart, life-in-balance, available-at-all-hours, high-output, do-what-you're-told employee.

To really stand for something, you must make difficult decisions, mostly about what you don't do...It's so hard to stand up, to not compromise, to give up an account or lose a vote or not tell a journalist what they want to hear.

But those are the only moments where standing for something actually counts, the only times that people will actually come to believe that you in fact actually stand for something.

He was speaking largely about brands and organizations, but this made me think about my own life, how difficult it is to do everything, please everyone.

So here it is.

As much as I'd like to, I'll never bake the best lemon meringue pie on the block. I'll never be the kind of wife that has dinner on the table at 6. I'll never tend to a garden. I'll never be the type of person who enjoys a long, leisurely bubble bath. I will probably never read War and Peace.

I'll never be a good shopper. I'll never know what the most fashionable purses are. I'll always put my dry-clean-only items in the wash, ruining some but finding out that the others? Totally machine washable. I'll always leave forgotten half-empty glasses of water around the house.

I'll never give up Coca-Cola. I'll never like tomatoes.

My children, if I have them, will probably go to daycare or have a nanny, at least for part of the day. I probably will never like Christmas shopping, but I will begrudgingly participate in it every year.

I'll never be top of my class.

I'll never respond to every email.

I'll probably never own a dog.

We can't be everything. And, you know? It feels good to finally admit it. It makes focusing on the things I truly want to do, the things I stand for, all the more possible.

Glitterazzi

All I want is an eyeliner that stays on all day. Is that really too much to ask? 

I went to Sephora and asked the salesperson to show me a brown eyeliner that would stay on all day. She brought me over to a whole line of glittery eyeliners. Also, she pointed out that the bright purple glittery eyeliner would bring out my eye color much better than the brown. 

Let me rephrase: all I want is a non-glittery brown eyeliner that stays on all day. 

Does such a thing exist? And, if so, where in the world do I get it? 

Bring on the Bossy

Okay, bosses. I'm checking in hourly with my updates. 

9 AM

The morning has been super-productive! I completed two tasks: putting away my suitcase from the trip and sending off two interview thank you notes. Plus I got ready already. Here's the proof:

Ready to go. All that work before 9 AM is exhausting. Is it too early for a nap?

10 AM

Yo, yo. I'm reporting to you live from Copyright class. Last hour, I did my Copyright reading--the NFL got all pissy with some sports bars--and then I rode my bicycle to school. You'll be terribly excited to see how much reading I have to do today. Fascinating! Also, I bought a coffee. 

11 AM

I'm now in Constitutional Law II, also known as the bane of my existence. My professor is talking a mile-a-minute about political process models, insular minorities, preemptory challenges, quasi-suspect classifications, and stigmatization. Wish you were here!

12 PM

Announcement: I finally had a chance to pee! Woot! I will now be attending a lunchtime discussion on Careers in In-House Counsel. I will attempt to multi-task by listening to the speakers, eating my free lunch, and also getting some tasks done. On deck: reading for my next class and responding to emails.  

1 PM

Last class of the day, people, last class of the day. Then I'll really get down to business. 

2PM

So, I've got this all screwed up because I've been telling you what I am going to do, rather than what I've actually done. This is not really a fantastic plan, because telling you what I am going to do does not really hold me accountable for actually then doing those things. For example, last hour I reported that I was going to class. Right after reporting to you that I was going to class I could have decided that, never mind, I was going to go get ice cream instead and you would never know. To iron out this wrinkle--to make your job easier--I'm going to stop reporting what I plan to do and start reporting what I actually have done. That said, I did go to class last hour and did not go get ice cream.  So, I'm a stellar employee, in other words. 

3PM

Last hour I went and negotiated with some contract people. I was all, yo, I understand that most people just sign contracts without reading the terms and whatnot, but I'm a baby lawyer and this indemnification clause? You're just gonna have to change that. I'm hardcore(ish). I rode my pink bike over to take care of that business so it took most of the hour, however, we are going to count that as TWO tasks completed because in my world riding a bike to run errands = working out! 

4 PM

COULD THIS POST GET ANY MORE BORING? For all of you who thought my life was a drunken giraffe-petting magical adventure, boy, were you wrong. Worst of all, I can't even blame you for asking for these incredibly boring hour-by-hour updates on the life of a law student, because you didn't ask for them. I am forcing them upon you in what could be the worst-ever post in the history of SoPink. But, I'm all committed to the post now, so I'll report that last hour I attempted to figure out some website stuff. Also, I rode my bike home so I am now eating candy corn.  

5 PM

I applied for a job.

6 PM

I went email crazy last hour! I email, email, emailed. Then I rode my bike to Starbucks, where I am now enjoying an oatmeal (Starbucks has oatmeal. What?) and a caffe latte with some friends. 

7 PM

The getting things done went all to hell because Shannon did not bring any homework and we all got distracted by Pundit Kitchen and Fail Blog.  

8 PM

Um. Yeah.

9:29 PM

Going to the bar.

Rollin' with the Homies

Kathryn and I went to the roller rink last night, for what was advertised as a sort of back to junior high disco skating extravaganza. We were not junior highers in what would be considered a disco era--in fact, we were not even alive during what would be considered a disco era--so we dressed up in some eighties gear. Or, maybe nineties gear. We were not junior highers until, like, 1992 or something, but none of it ended up mattering anyway, because after 45 minutes of quasi-disco music, the DJ started playing some bullshit modern music that I don't even know how to properly classify, except to say that it was not good.

I swiped these pictures off of Kathryn's Facebook page.

In any event, it was not very much like junior high skating at all, which could have been terribly disappointing, but which ended up being fine because there was a keg. There was never a keg a junior high skating parties.

We did ride our bikes to and from the rink which I guess is totally junior high, except that in junior high that would have been so embarrassing.  Now, the only embarrassing part is when you are too drunk to get your bike unlocked and have to call your husband to get the combination.

Don't Vote

 

Spread the word.

I'm Half Crazy, All for the Love of You

Today is our 5th wedding anniversary and I can still convince Will to take super-cheesy photos with me. Life is good.

Macaronied

With the exception of a macaroni salad incident, in which I dumped macaroni salad into my purse and onto Zandria's foot (and after she took me to the most fabulous lounge, Rye, where I enjoyed free basil vodka gimlets no less!), the BlogHer conference is quite splendid. 

Zandria and I are still friends, despite the fact that I macaronied her, and we are currently collecting free condoms in the Sex and Relationship session. 

Hello to new friends who are visiting Slice of Pink for the very first time! I am so, so happy to have you.

You Don't Have No Ice Cream

A few weeks back, Will ordered Eddie Murphy Delirious from Netflix. I found the 70-minute stand-up comedy routine mostly offensive and, in the end, I watched only a portion of it before I fell asleep and dreamed in foul language of tight red leather and gold bling. 

I did see one part of the show--the delirious ice cream skit--which, at the time, I found mildly funny. Since then, however, the routine has grown on me exponentially because every time, every single time, Will and I hear the music of the ice cream man, we bust into the routine. Sometimes we bust into the routine when we are getting ice cream out of our own freezer.  Sometimes we do the routine in the grocery store when we are picking out some ice cream sandwiches. And sometimes we do it for no reason except that it gets funnier every damn time. 

It is so stupid this routine, basically consisting of this:

ICE CREAAAAMMMM! ICCCEE CREEAAAAAAAM! 

And then a little dance, with this:

I have some ice cream. I have some ice cream. I'm gonna eat it. You don't have no ice cream. 

Despite the profound stupidity of it, I highly suggest you watch the skit with someone you love, preferably when your kids and bosses are not around, and see if you can help yourself from yelling out ICCCCE CREEAAAM! next time you hear the jingle of the ice cream truck. Like me, here, embarrassing myself at the Farmer's Market. I cannot help myself.

Trust me. You'll be dancing on the frozen aisle of the grocery store in no time. Just please, refrain from wearing tight red leather with gold bling. Or, if you do, please post it for us all to see. 

Fourth on the Seventh

Due to the death of my hard drive, followed by the  online appointment-making with an Apple Genius, followed by the subsequent moment in which Will took some sushi out of the fridge and was pouring himself a little dish of soy sauce, followed by a dramatic freak-out by me (OMG. You are so not eating sushi right now. Right now? Really? Are you serious? We have an appointment at Apple in one hour! At a mall that is 25 minutes away! Plus Parking! OMGhurryhurryhurry!), followed by cranking out a lost research paper, followed by the consumption of many Drumstick Vanilla Caramel Sundae Cones and extra large fountain beverages, I forgot to tell you about my Fourth of July. 

It appears that my hard drive was dead on the Fourth of July, but I was not aware of that fact yet, as I was hanging out downtown, being all peace-love-and-patriotic with the rest of the community.

We started at the Davis Little League All-You-Can-Eat Fourth of July Pancake Breakfast and then headed over to Central Park for the children's parade. The parade must have lasted about four minutes, because we were ten minutes late and they were already holding the awards ceremony. 

We spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon watching the Davis Fourth of July Criterium, which can be summarized by the following equation: hundreds of muscular people in tight shorts + bicycle riding at 30-plus mph + $8000 bicycles + crashing into the pavement = a good time had by all. 

It is customary to spend my fourth of Julys looking at beefy men. 

We also ate some ice cream, listened to Custom Neon, and watched the fireworks down at the community park. I believe it was the very first instance of a fireworks show that did not include a rendition of Lee Greenwood's God Bless the USA. In other words, it was fantastic. 

There are more photos of my 4th here. 

Oops, We Did it Again

Back in April, we received a coupon for a free Habit burger in the mail and, if you remember, we proceeded to retrieve two dozen more coupons from the recycle bin in front of the apartment mail boxes. 

We ate a lot of Habit that month. 

Looks like this month we will be eating a lot of Chipotle. 

A coupon--free burrito bowl, burrito, or tacos--arrived on Friday and due to diligent daily rummaging in the paper bin, we have retrieved nearly twenty more coupons. Why are people throwing away free tacos? It's practically a six dollar bill! 

Funny, just last week Will was saying how he largely disliked Chipotle; suddenly, it's his very favorite place to dine.

I'm Fine!

I still have deciding to do and photos to post and things to tell you, but I have a final tomorrow, so I am going to go ahead and study a little bit and get back to you tomorrow. Wish me luck!

{Photos from Jean Jullien via Swiss Miss}

P.S. Quick! Tell me what you know about Property Law!

Hey Little Sister

Dear April Ann,

Today you turn 18, that magical age when you can stop off at the 7-11 to buy cigarettes, lottery tickets, and porn or, if you prefer, you can drive over to an Indian casino and play video poker. I chose the latter on my 18th birthday, but honestly? Gambling is kind of dull unless it involves large amounts of free alcohol (clearly, I'm not our mother's daughter).

It's been fun watching you grow up and, since I was 10 when you were born, I can more or less remember the whole shebang. You were so tiny and cute and, more importantly, I got to stay home from school all day waiting for your arrival. You didn't get home until well after school would have been let out anyway, so I might as well have gone to class, but I got to sleep in and then spend the day on the couch watching reruns of the Brady Bunch. Your birth will always be firmly implanted in my memory right alongside the time Marcia got Davey Jones to sing at the prom.

At age five, you were constantly in my stuff--in my room, in my clothes, in my drawers--and I'll never forget the time you stuck all my stickers all over every envelope in my stationery box. Seems so trivial now, but then? Hoo-weeeeee, was I ever mad.

You collected rocks--lots of them straight from the yard, all lined up on your dresser--and you also collected roly-poly bugs (also known as Woodlouse). You kept them in a box in your nightstand and fed them leaves. When mom discovered the little habitat, you had a whole family of them. And, by family, I mean a great big Texas compound-sized family.

Alas, the years have passed and now you're all grown up. And I sure do like you. I've loved you with all my heart since the day you were born, of course, but now that you stay out of my stuff and let me borrow your shirts and no longer keep bugs in your nightstand, my love is just bursting at the seams. Yep, you turned out alright.

You brought this poem home from elementary school one day for me. It is written in pencil and each line is numbered in the margin, presumably to remind you which lines to rhyme. I've kept it all these year in a file folder and your 18th birthday seems like the perfect time to publish it right here on the Internet.

Poem Friday

I made a party just for you
I bought a cow that says I love you
and it is true
I hope you love me to

birthdays are very fun
we will have a party
we will invite pinke panthers they will bring a ton
hope they won't be tarty

I really want them to go to your party
I planned it out so well
Ya they aren't tarty
I promised mom I would not tell

I have letters to send
so that is the end

Wishing you tons of non-tarty pinke panthers and much, much more. Happy birthday, baby sister!

Doxie Derby

Those blurry things? Those are dachshunds down at the Doxie Derby. I didn't take a single good photo at the Doxie Derby because
1) the derby was almost as popular as Bill Clinton so I was way up in the nosebleed section
2) I didn't bring a proper lens for my camera
3) I was laughing so hard that I couldn't hold the camera still

So, what happens is: they put the doxies in little colored capes and load them into the stalls, six at a time.

Then, they ring the bell, open the gates, and the dogs race to the finish line. Except that some of them don't really feel like racing over to the finish line. See purple, over there on the left of the photo below?

Yellow and Green are racing to the finish. Purple? Lookin' for a treat. Hey! Anybody got a treat over here?

Hey, where did everybody go?

More blurry doxies after the jump.

Shooting Ducks

There are dozens of baby ducks down at the arboretum and I want to bring them all home and let them live in my bathtub, but I am settling for taking a million photographs of them and then forcing Will to look at each and every photo.

This little one aspires to be a model. Look at her pose for the camera.

Work it, work it.

Get my good side.

Habit

So, there was this oversized postcard in our mailbox today. It was a coupon for a free Habit burger. I really like The Habit, maybe because it reminds me of getting a thick vanilla shake and a grilled cheese with extra pickles at the Habit in Santa Barbara, sitting in the warm sunshine with my husband or my cousins, sharing a good laugh on State Street. Or maybe it is because they really load on the mayonnaise. Either way, I like The Habit.

We set aside the coupon for the burger and we went to throw away the remainder of the advertisements--for smog checks, groceries, and pizza--when it occurred to Will that there were probably more of these burger coupons in the trash. Will spends a lot of time out at the mailbox, eating account numbers and whatnot, and he has witnessed that most people pull out the stack of ads and, without so much as a glance, toss 'em.

So we did what any self-respecting, coupon-using Americans would do: we retrieved those Habit coupons from the trash (which is a fancy way of saying that we went dumpster diving). The good news is that Davis is super environmentally friendly so the trash can was technically a large recycling bin, solely for the collection of paper. And, lucky for us, people adhere to the paper-only policy.

In the interest of full disclosure, we did not just check our recycle bin but also the ones at the adjacent complex, partially because of our compulsive natures and partially because we are cheap and there were perfectly good FREE BURGERS going to waste. Every time I pulled out a free burger--and, let me tell you, I have at least 20 of them--I could hear a sweet cha-ching!

Care to come to Davis for dinner? I know of this great little burger joint. My treat.

Pink Goes {Green}

Have you heard? St. Patrick's Day is rescheduled this year.

The Pope says we need to celebrate on the 14th. Or maybe the 15th. Others say that Saint Patrick's Day will be on the 17th, as usual.

Some are going to resolve the dilemma by just starting the celebration today and partying through the 17th.

In other words, you are gonna need to be wearin' the green for the next few days. Thanks to Paper Pony, I have discovered Polyvore and have spent my entire lunch break building St. Patty outfits for you.

Like, for instance, this lovely outfit which includes a $12 green apple ring.

So, the jeans in this outfit are $200, but the shoes and the bangle are from Old Navy. Evens things out.

How about a little Lilly Pulitzer pink and green? Perfect for resort life, summer in the Hamptons, or St. Patrick's Day!

And, finally, this outfit, which I put together for you to wear out to a pub. Doesn't beer make such a good accessory?

Happy wearing o' the green. For the next four days.

She Bangs!

So, I noticed Katie Holmes has ditched the side-swept bangs for a more, um, non-sweepy bangs look.

Not that it matters much to me anyway. I get around by riding my bike or, if it is raining, by riding the bus, and neither of those options are particularly kind to the hair.

But, just in case I ever need to travel someplace fancy in a car (like, say, Target), should I go non-sweepy or sweepy? These high quality photos taken with Photo Booth illustrate your options:

To sweep or not to sweep, that is the question.

Smelly Cat, Smelly Cat

I've heard people admit that they are afraid to have another baby because their first born is such an angel--sleeps through the night, hardly cries, is just the perfect child--and surely that kind of good fortune only comes around once in a lifetime. The second child, they are convinced, will be the complete opposite--a difficult creature that will wreak havoc on their lives.

I don't have any children, but if children are anything like cats, I am here to tell you that those theories are TRUE. THEY ARE TRUE. If one is a lovely, uncomplicated piece of cake, the second will be a complete disaster.

Meet Olive.

We picked up Olive on Friday. I didn't want to blog about Olive because I could tell right away that things were not quite right. Plus, you know, blogs about cats are so awesome. I'd suggest that if you know something about cats or really love cats, read on. I need your advice, crazy cat people of the Internet. I am counting on you.

If you could care less about cats, I TOTALLY HEAR YOU. Totally. I don't want to read a crazy cat post either. Please, come back tomorrow for some non-cat content.

Now, the three of us who are still here, let's talk about Olive. She's utterly adorable, really cute, chases a string like a pro.

But.

For starters, I seem to have developed an allergic reaction to cats. We have a cat already, Millie, and I have always been mildly allergic to her, a sniffle here or there, but the allergies have been magnified since Olive moved in. Have I entered the permanent hell of itchiness or can you, uh, become immune to cat dander?

Second, and more importantly, she is kind of smelly. And that's putting it nicely. Really? She stinks. Specifically, she has a stinky butt. She poots all the time (we don't use the term fart here at this respectable website) but also her butt just stinks. We took her to the vet and they suggest that she will probably outgrow the stinkiness. No guarantees. Is probably good enough? And what does one mean by outgrow? Weeks? Months? Years? Because I'm thinking I can take about, oh, FOUR MORE HOURS.

The Internet provides all sorts of non-scientific sites dedicated to stinky cats and they suggest the following: change her food (we did), take to vet for assorted tests (we did), and various techniques involving lots of touching of cat butt (no, thank you, sorry).

We have two weeks to return the cat. What would you do, Internet, with this little face looking at you?

Don't look at me like that.

So, awesome, let's get a conversation going on here about cat butts.

(What is happening to this website? Should I just cancel my Typepad subscription now, redecorate in country clutter, and start knitting little kitty booties? On second thought, don't answer that. Stick to the assignment: should she stay or should she go?)